Ex called me a while back. I didn’t tell him that I was moving… I didn’t really think to.
I’ve passed the point where hearing his voice makes me roll in my gut. That hideous little snake of depression and anxiety that he always brought up has died. I can feel it rotting away sometimes when I think about how hard I tried to be straight and how it has obviously affected him. It’s his little slips that catch me biting my tongue, calling me “babe” out of that 15 year habit is one of them.
I can’t bring myself to be angry with him, not anymore. He’s screwed us both over in a multitude of ways, mine are mostly monetary aches that I just have to keep paying monthly till they fade away like my guilt snake.
I want to be angry with him. I want to ask why I lost all of my friends over this. I want to ask how it feels to be “right” because he’s the straight one. I want to be angry so badly but I don’t have it in me anymore. It feels like it would be easier to be angry than to admit that he’s never going to truly go away. The fact of the matter is that I’m always going to care for him. I’m always going to remember him. I am always going to hope the best for him.
But I don’t feel responsible for his future anymore. And you know what? I think that’s how it’s supposed to be.